If only
by john6lisa
Summary: AU B&W story, a little fluff and some sexy times. Myka meets Helena while on vacation in England with her family.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N an AU B&W story. Just a little fun and fluff to distress my mind.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Syfy.**

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><p>Helena paced the foyer of her apartment, "Finally" she grumbled at the sound of the doorbell.<p>

"And the extra sauce is in this," the young delivery boy said with a smile as he shook the plastic container.

"Yes. yes, here, thank you," Helena mumbled as she set the Thai food down on the side table, stuffing a twenty into the boys shirt pocket, "Just disappear, now," she said, the boy frowning as she shoved him toward the stairs.

Helena scurried around the dining table, lighting the candles and spreading out food, her face dropping as a few drops of the wine dripped on the white linen tablecloth.

The pounding on her door was too much.

"Fine, hold your horses," she said, making her way to the front door, _'what did you forget now,_'

Swinging the door, her hand running through her hair as she sighed her frustration, "I purposely paid extra for the early delivery, what have you forgot …" her face falling at the sight of the curly hair and wide green eyes at her door.

"Umm. If you want, I could come back later, maybe?" Myka's thumb pointing over her right shoulder as she backed away from the door.

"Not one step further," Helena's voice unsure one second, clearing her throat the next as her hand reached for the young woman.

"I just thought, after meeting in the museum, maybe," the American rubbing at the back of her neck as her eyes darted anywhere but those brown eyes.

"Nonsense, your eyes were and are but a blessing that has haunted my thoughts all day," Helena grinned as she tugged the woman inside her flat.

The kiss, the meeting of soft, warm flesh was just as surprising the second time. Myka's eyes rolled back at the urgent feel of those firm fingers, the hot, rushed breathes that caressed her neck.

Memories of their heated exchange in the bathroom was starting to overwhelm her. Myka's common sense was chucked out with the day old bath water.

'_Intoxicating, is it not?' that soft Essex voice rolling over Myka, enveloping her to the point that her senses were all but abandoned. She smiled sheepishly at her family as she lingered behind, the warmth of the strangers fingers against the small of her back caused all reason to escape her, "I'll meet you at the mineral exhibit," Myka whispered to her sister._

_"Whatever," Tracy huffed, her eyes drifting to the back of her sister, a smirk curling over her lips at the site of the strange woman's hand that was possessively guiding her big sister away from them._

_"See you in church," Tracy winked as she raced to catch up to their parents._

_"Your family seems … understanding," Myka shivering at that heated breath against her neck as she was blindly lead into the bathroom of the third floor._

"I am assuming you are of legal age?" the warm breath nipping down the expanse of her long throat.

"Meaning?" Myka husked out, her fingers curling around the long tending's, halting their assault down the hem of her jeans.

"Meaning, you are able to relieve yourself from your family, to join me in a more privy place?" Helena's voice rasped against fluttering skin.

"Such as?" Myka halting the progression of those heavenly digits down her Levi's.

"If, such as to meet in a pub, would you be able to order a half and half of your own accord?" Helena's question lowering with each word to a hesitation.

"Yes," Myka breathlessly whispered to the underside of tender, lily white skin.

"700 PM," Helena whispered, pulling back, her hand reaching to the pen clipped to her black wool vest. Myka leaned back, her hands gripping the cold feel of the white, porcelain of the sink in the bathroom through hooded eyes.

"Do you really want me?" her voice dropping as quick as her eyes to study the pattern of the bathroom, tile floor. Green eyes shooting up at the harsh scuff that echoed through the empty bathroom.

"I am not in the habit of seducing, then revealing my personal information to beautiful Americans at the drop of a hat," her smirk spreading as her hand busied with the pen on the paper. "MS ?"

"Bering, Myka," she gulped down, her hands fidgeting at the hem of her shirt. "I've never … with anyone," Myka whispered. "I am not some American whore," her head turning to the bathroom door.

"As I am no Euro trash whore," Helena's smile shies as she handed Myka the piece of paper. Her giving a quick kiss to the corner of Myka's mouth as she passed by the two of them.

"Dad, it is A unique opportunity to learn from a master," Myka replied, her eyes watching from the corner as her father paced the small room of their hotel.

"Warren, really? You have always pushed Myka to learn, to ask questions," Jeanie said as she turned away from the two of them. Her hand digging through her small, secret black wallet, the crisp bills sliding across her fingers.

"Mother, please. I was not born yesterday, and neither was my girl," Warren pacing the room, Jeanie smiling to herself as she watched the two rub the back of their necks.

"Your girl, is a woman, she has been since three months ago on her twenty-first birthday. For hecks shake, Warren. Please let your baby go," Jeanie sighed. "What more do you want from the girl? She has been accepted to Harvard, top in her class and the apple of your eye," Jeanie winked at her oldest.

Tracy huffed, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Please!" she scoffed.

"You've something to say, baby girl?" Warren asked his youngest.

Myka's eyes glared, her brow furrowed at her younger sibling. "Yes, please share?" Myka asked.

Tracy's eyes softened, the slightest hint of understanding crossed. "Not really, I just think it is … an interesting idea for her to spend a night in London, by herself. Let her find out what it is like to spend a night away from us," her voice stern, the hint of a wink escaping their parents attention.

"Am out of here," Myka rushed, her grabbing her knapsack as she rushed out the door of the hotel room. Cursing under her breath as she looked at her watch.

Tracy followed after her, slamming the hotel door shut behind her as she chased her sister down to the lift. "Hey! slow down!" Tracy huffed as she caught up to her sister.

"Are you sure?" Tracy asked as she grabbed Myka's elbow.

"Sure of what?" Myka said, not looking at her sister as she punched the button to the elevator.

"I saw her," Tracy whispered.

"Saw who?" Myka sighed as she looked up, watching the lift ding with each floor.

"That sexy as hell woman who dragged you into the bathroom," Tracy's voice was stern as she crossed her arms, her glare digging into her sister's eyes. "You know damn well what I am talking about,"

Myka thumped her head against the gold medal of the lift. "And are you going to rat me out?"

"No," Tracy shaking her head as she leaned against the wall of the floor. Their eyes both watching as the lift worked its way to their floor.

"Are you sure? I mean, all those dumb ass books you read, that she is the one?" Tracy asked, putting herself between the lift doors and her sister.

"I don't know. But, it feels right," Myka sighed, readjusting her bag over her shoulder.

"You know, I have made up my mind that Kevin will be my one, my husband," Tracy stated.

"Whether he wants it or not?" Myka smirked, then squeezing her sister's shoulder.

"Not funny, lanky," Tracy retorted.

"It's just; I know you are still a virgin like me,"

"And your point? And don't call me Lanky, short stack," Myka huffed, wanting to will the lift to hurry the hell up.

"Stop being my older sister and just hear me out, I know this will be your first time and tell me how many nights we have stayed up, wishing our first time to be Bradly Cooper?" Tracy sighed.

"Or Maya Angelou?" Myka sighed.

"You are such a geek, any woman would want Angelina Jolie as their first," Tracy rolling her eyes.

"Whatever, just promise me that she is worth it?" she sighed.

"I promise, I think," Myka smiled as the lift dinged for their floor.

Myka whimpered as Helena's fingers took her innocence, a tear rolling down her cheek as she swallowed down the pain.

"My, love," Helena whispered against Myka's ear as her hips pushed more urgently into her hand.

"More," Myka pleaded, her hand gripping Helena's wrist as her hips pushed.

"Your family?" Helena's breathe gently brushing against the lobe of Myka's ear.

"Are you more concerned about my family, or me?"

Myka cursing herself as she felt the wash of tears against her cheek, her lips brushing against Helena's cheek as the tears cascaded down.

"Never you mind, your pleasure is all that matters," Helena choked out, slowing down her true self.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Okay, I thought this was going to be a one-shot. Some fluffy, mindless entertainment to help get over my WB. But, thanks to a few comments from a few funny as heck readers, I am adding a chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Syfy.**

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><p>Jeannie moved out of bed, lifting the heavy arm that was splayed across her. She quietly padded to the bathroom, washing her face, combing her hair and brushing her teeth. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror, remembering back to all those times she scolded the girls for not brushing. Some nights feeling like a chore to get them to practice proper hygiene.<p>

She smiled as she wrapped herself in the old terry cloth robe Myka and Tracy had given her for mother's day so many years ago. She tighten her sash as she leaned over, kissing her husband's forehead as he snored.

Her hand was steady on the old oak banister of the stairs as she quietly made her way to the kitchen. Her eyes widen in surprise at the lights that broke through the darkness of the hallway. She peeked her head around the wall, then leaning against it. Watching her oldest daughter fumble with the coffee maker. She covered her smirk as she listened to Myka curse, watching her try her best to prepare the morning meal.

Oranges were half sliced, bacon starting to burn in her mother's cast iron skillet as Myka tried to dig out the broken shells of the eggs she cracked in the bowl.

"Good morning," Jeannie said as she entered the kitchen, wanting to relieve her daughter's frustrations at trying to make breakfast.

Myka jumped, knocking the bowl of eggs over on the counter, "Geezers, Mom, you scared the hell out of me!"

"Language, young lady," she said, trying to repress her smile. "Go, sit," nodding to the chairs at the table. "Not as easy as it looks?" Jeannie said as she cleaned the eggs up, then smiling as the coffee maker chimed.

"Black?" she smiled as she set two cups down on the table. Myka shyly looking up as she grabbed the cup. "Milk, please?"

"I'm surprised, most grownups take it black," Jeannie said as she placed the cow shaped dispenser down on the table. Myka's eyes widen over the rim of her mug.

"What did that brat Tracy, tell you about Helena and I?"

Jeannie mulled over her response, not looking at Myka as she set the burnt pan of bacon in the sink. Her shoulders rose as she sighed, her throat dry as she turned around to face her daughter.

"Is there something I should know?" her hand shaking just a bit as she lifted the cup of coffee to her lips. Sitting down across from her, her hand sliding on top of her daughters, her thumb gently rubbing the top of a clenched fist.

"Talk to me, Myka." Jeannie giving a soft smile. "Something has changed since London,"

"Sort of," Myka shrugged, her eyes down cast at her mug, watching the cream swirl around in the black liquid.

"Sort of? It seems to me that if someone has decided to up their roots, moving from one country to another, transfer from Oxford to attend Harvard. That it might be more than a_ 'sort of_' situation," Jeannie smiled as she sipped her coffee.

She watched as her daughter fidgeted with her mug of coffee, seeing her blush rise along with her walls. She sighed, then taking a long draw from her mug; she eyed her first born as she cleared her throat.

"I was not, _a pristine flower,_ when your father and I married. As a matter of fact, that night, after your father had asked me to marry him, we…" Jeannie was cut off by the choking from her daughter. She rushed to the sink, filling a glass with water. Then rubbing Myka's back as she watched her sip the water.

"Mom," Myka choked, coughing a bit, and then sipping her water, watching as her mom sat down next to her.

"I am just saying that this _HG woman_ must be very special to you. That the next day, when you came back to the hotel, I could tell something special had happen,"

"How? I mean, how could you tell?" Myka still looking down, her fingers playing with her glass of water.

"Call it _mother's intuition_. Besides, I am so proud of you waiting for that special _one,_" She winked.

"This is so strange, and really uncomfortable," Myka chuckled, her eyes lifting with that smile that was spreading across her lips. "She so wonderful, kind and smart. Mom, she is so smart and beautiful. I can't wait for you to meet her," Myka smiled to her mother. "Thank you for not making this so uncomfortable,"

"What is uncomfortable?" the sound of her father's voice booming through the small kitchen as he came in. Not bother to look at ether one of them as he poured his coffee. "Mother, did you burn something?"

"No, dad. I was just …" Jeannie's hand squeezing hard to stop her daughter further.

"Not to worry, some bacon just got away from me," she winked to her daughter as she got up, cleaning the pan, then starting up a fresh batch of the pork belly delight.

"Say there, girl?"

"Yes, sir?" Myka snapped, straightening up at his commanding voice.

"Didn't you say something last night about needing the car? Something about picking some girl up?" he was mumbling into his coffee as he dug into his pockets.

"I think she already is past that point," Tracy snarking as she bounced into the kitchen, her smug face beaming at Myka.

_'You are so dead'_ Myka mumbled as she shot up, grabbing the keys from her dad.

"Myka Ophelia Bering!" Myka stopping dead in her tracks at the voice.

"Warren!"

"Now now, mother. The girl needs to learn manners," his hand raised as the room stilled.

Tracy mouthed a _'sorry_' to Myka as they all sat down at the table.

"This Helen woman,"

"Helena," Myka corrected.

Warren just grumbled as he stared at his first born, "This woman will come to this house and you will make a proper introduction, to this family. Am I understood?" his face stern but the glint in his eyes shone at his girl.

"Yes sir," she swallowed, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall.

"Some where you need to be?" Warren saying as he sipped his coffee. "I did not raise my girls to be late,"

Myka grinned as she shot up, sticking her tongue out to Tracy as she grabbed the keys.

"Better save that for later, you'll need it," Tracy snarked as she crossed her arms.

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><p>Myka paced, her eyes darting to the arrival board every few seconds. "Un effing believable," she whispered to herself. The thoughts of her parents, '<em>doing it'<em> almost made her gag as she paced the entrance to the arrival area of the airport.

Myka smiled as she spotted those black raven locks dart through the crowd, her smile wide. "My, darling," Helena sighed as she dropped her carry on, her arms wrapping around the taller woman's neck.

Their kiss was searing, their hands searching out bare skin as their lips became one. Myka broke away, her eyes darting to the looks from the others around them.

"Screw them," Helena whispered, turning Myka's head to meet for the heavenly lips she had been dreaming about. Myka ducked her head away, her blush rising as her eyes darted to the looks.

"Am I your girl?" Helena whispered, her fingers tentatively stroking Myka's cheek. Myka nodding a soft yes.

"Of course you are," Myka's eyebrows furring as she stared at the woman.

"Then do not worry what the world thinks, your heart is all that matters," those soft lips nipping down and around her jaw.

"Let's get out of here," Myka said breathlessly as her fingers entangled in the Brits, her other grabbing the carry on as she dragged them both out of the airport.

Helena kept looking side eyed at her beauty as they drove; her fingers had confiscated her free hand as they drove. "I found this quaint B&B near the coast for us," Myka said, raising their fingers, kissing them as she drove into the bright sun.

"And?" Helena replied, knowing something was off.

Myka sighed heavily, her head leaning on her hand that rested next to the window, 'They, my family, my mom and dad, may have hinted at wanting to meet you," her words escaping in a shaky sigh, her eyes darting to gauge Helena's reaction.

"You do realize, darling. That I have a bit of charm about me?"

Myka nodding her head, a look of trepidation flashing, "And?" Myka smirked as she pulled the car into the parking lot of the seaside B&B.

"My love, I realize that we have been seeing one another but for a few months. But, I have never been more secure in my knowledge that I want to spend the rest of my life with you,"

"Is that a proposal?" Myka chuckled nervously as she grabbed their bags from the trunk of the car, her shoulder protesting at the weight of the bags as they walked to the lobby of the B&B.

"Did I not relive your worry that night as you gave your most precious gift to me?" Helena's voice laced with the sound of regret and nervousness.

Myka stopped, the bags dropping out of her hands, her face frozen with a hidden fear. The thud of the bags echoed through the lobby, all heads snapping to them.

_"Baby_?" Myka whispered as her hands cradled Helena's face.

"I knew, from the second I met you, not even knowing your name, that I would give you my everything," Myka's voice cracking as she brushed her lips against Helena's.

Soft lips pushed as the urgency built, a throat clearing broke the two lovers apart. "And whom do I have the pleasure of interrupting?" A shy smile was met with a harsh blush from the taller woman. The smaller of the two smirking as she crossed her arms.

"Um, Bering? I made a reservation?" Myka was blushing, Helena starting to worry of all the blood rushing to her face would cause her love to pass out.

Helena took the lead, signing the book, taking the keys and nodding at all the amenities and local sites to the young woman behind the desk. Her eyes darting every few seconds to Myka, to make sure that sexy, furious blush was subsiding. She would catch Myka playing with the hem of her shirt while she listens to the woman ramble.

"Finally," Helena whispered under her breath as they were able to make their retreat to the secluded cabin down the worn trail. "My darling, this is perfect," Helena whispered next to Myka's ear as they pushed the door to the cabin open.

Helena's last fleeting thought mingled in her mind, her fingers threading through thick curls as her hips jumped at the flick of the tongue. She could feel the worry and strains of thought as her love snuggled next to after she had cursed the gods themselves as Myka unnerved her very being.

"What has you troubled?" Helena asked, humming as she threaded her fingers through unruly curls.

"My family," Myka sighed, her long legs wrapping around toned thighs as her arm wrapped over the firm waist. Her face nuzzling into the crook of the soft neck.

"They want to meet you,"

"When?" Helena gulped. Her face nuzzling under the soft jaw, her resolve running away as she nipped at the soft skin.

"Before class starts?" Myka shrugged, her hips starting a slow rhythm as Helena shifted on top.

"Well, that would seem prudent, considering we are going to share a flat whilst studying for our masters," Helena trying to keep her voice steady as her hips started to buck at the glorious feel.

"More, baby, please," the plea was matched by the tug of fingers in her hair.

"For you… anything" Helena's breath was escaping reason.

The owner paused, her hand lifted before she knocked.

The moans of love caused the callused owner to shiver, placing the fresh towels in front of the door, she smiled as words of love flooded, creeping under the cracks of the door.

"If only," she sighed.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N I'm trying to wrap up this story so as to have more time to devote to my other two stories, Bar Stop and the new one, The Hunger.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Syfy.**

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><p>"Babe ... Helena" Myka whispered as she came up behind the Brit. Her arms wrapping around her waist, soft lips met warm, flushed skin.<p>

"Do you think this is appropriate?" Helena asked softly, the waver in the otherwise confident voice cracked as their eyes met in their reflexion in the mirror. Myka smiled as her hand stilled the frantic tugging of Helena's right hand on the buckle of her belt.

"Maybe I should change out to that white blouse? It is a bit more conservative?" Helena was saying, her next thought cut short from the firm grip around her waist, fingers stopping her from buttoning the last around her collar.

"Don't you dare," the low timber causing Helena to quiver as it vibrated against the skin of her neck, her head lolling back onto a strong shoulder. Myka then humming her approval at the vast expanse of skin lay bare before her lips.

"And what of the vest?" Helena whispered as she turned her head, the need of tasting those bee-stung lips over powering any decorum she so desperately clung to.

"Please, let me," Myka's words cutting off as their lips met, a moan escaping both as Helena threaded her fingers through thick curls, deepening their kiss as Myka buttoned the vest.

Helena shuttered as Myka's hand came up, smoothing over her vest, sucking in a sharp breath as her thumb grazed over her harden peak, "My, love. I feel it prudent that we make our sojourn to your family's abode, a hasty one" the grin repressed as she turned in Myka's arms. A quick nip to kiss swollen lips.

It was enough of a distraction to cause Myka to loosen her grip, Helena moving around the room then to gather their things, "Tell me, do I meet with your approval?" Helena was smiling inwardly as she held their coats in one arm, her hand lightly brushing over her now buttoned vest.

"Very," Myka grinned, and then a small pout spreading as Helena dodged her arms, instead, placing their coats in Myka's outstretched hand.

The sigh of frustration not escaping Helena as they walked to the door. The teasing of sexual frustration was her defense any time she felt nervous. Helena thought, as she grabbed her keys, her smile small, her thoughts shaking inside her head. Myka was more, so much more than a sexual distraction, a conquest.

Helena repressed the screaming inside her soul. She had tentatively come to grips with the fact that Myka was her one. Her forever. The realization had hit her like a Mack truck that night, staring into tear filled eyes as they whispered their love, bared their souls, their hearts, to one another.

Helena slightly wiped away the pressing tears as she allowed Myka to hold her coat up, slipping her arms in, then tucking away as she grinned at her love with the front door held open.

A sharp, soul filling breath was had, then giving way as Mahogany melted into forest green. The mirth and love then filling her completely.

"No dawdling," Helena feeling more herself.

"You are too British, sometimes," Myka rolling her eyes as she nipped a quick peck to her love's cheek.

"Guilty," Helena smirked as she closed the door to their apartment behind them.

…

"Mother! For Hades sake! It's just dinner," Warren was grumbling as he slipped a finger in the double Windsor knot Jeannie had just tied, trying his best to lose its strangle hold around his neck.

"Maybe to you, but to Myka …" Jeannie trailed off, her head turned and tilted to the side as she readjusted the earrings as she looked in the mirror. She watched the frown on her husband's face, his upper lip twitching as he adjusted his tie. His eyes then falling on his wife's, a slight quiver to his bottom lip. Jeannie chuckled as he tucked that quivering lip between his teeth, then rubbing at the base of his neck.

_"So like each other, like father, like daughter"_ she whispered.

"What was that, mother?" Warren asked as he gripped the belt buckle, making sure all was well. "Tracy!" he bellowed to the wall next to them.

_"What?"_ was heard, Jeannie covering the laugh that was bursting at the seams.

"Don't use that tone with me, young lady," Warren now yelling at the wall. "Go see to your sister and that woman of hers when they arrive," Jeannie now frowning at her husband.

"Really, Warren. That woman maybe your future daughter in law someday. The _'father' of your grandson,_" Jeannie huffed out in mock frustration.

"Wait, mother." the soft tone of her husband's voice caused pause in her step, her head leaning against their bedroom door, the smile repressed. "Do you think …" Jeannie sighing inwardly at the next response, hoping his approval was to follow.

What words that had followed next caused the woman to shake, gripping onto their bed post to steady herself. "Mother! Jeannie, my darling?" Warren's voice laced with worry as he steadied his wife to the foot of their bed.

Kissing his wife's forehead, his arms wrapped tenderly around her, "I'm sorry," he whispered against her head. "I will try to behave,"

"As you should," Jeannie smiled, wiping the stray tear falling down her husband's cheek.

"It just seems," he sighed into his wife's bosom. "It just seems that I am forever cursed with girls," the hand then smacking his shoulder.

"Let me amend that, mother," he said, mockingly rubbing his arm. "I would, just for once, love for our family to blessed with a_ stem on the apple,_"

...

"You know, there is still time to bolt for the hills?" Myka's voice shaking Helena out of her seriousness as they stopped in front of the book store in downtown Boston.

"Don't be daft, Love," Helena smiled into their entwined fingers that met her lips. "I, for one, am looking forward to meeting your clan," her voice trying to stay strong as her finger danced over the protrusion in her left pocket. "Do you think your father will approve?" her voice nervous.

"If he does not, then I will disown him," Myka's smile spreading across quivering lips. Helena's fingers gently tugging on soft curls, moaning her approval as her tongue sought permission to invade Myka's very soul.

"Hey, children here you two!" the voice causing the two women to break apart.

"What the effing hell, Tracy!" Myka shouted as she threw open the car door, her hand raised to her sister's face as she got out, rushing to the other side before Helena could open her car door.

"Thank you, my, love," Helena smiled at the proffered hand before her.

"Hey, HG," Tracy smirked as she looked at the possessive hand at the small of the back of her sister.

"Salutations, young, Lady Bering," Helena grinned to Tracy as they walked into the book store.

_"I swear, just that hair alone would knock me up. How the hell did you get her to love you?_" Tracy whispered in Myka's ear as they all were walking up the stairs of the book shop. Helena giving a gentle smile as she watched Myka pull the _'closed_' sigh around, then, without thought, her hand traveled upon the spines of the books they passed to the stairs,

"Such a geek," Tracy leaned to Helena as they both walked up the flight of stairs.

"I find it endearing," Helena said, stopping, making sure her body blocked the ascent up the stairs. Her hand was raised, her fingers beckoning Myka's as Helena had stopped.

Tracy stood back, her arms crossed in a slight defense for her and her sister. She sighed halfheartedly as she watched them. Myka came up the rung of stairs, her fingers entwining in Helena's. The smile, _that smile_, she had never been witness to, crossed her sister's.

"Okay, fine!" Tracy whispered, tossing her hands up over her head, "Just don't name him_ moonbeam_ or some weird name. Maybe Warren?" Tracy then rolling her eyes as she turned up the steps. "I soooo don't want to hear you two tonight,"

"We did get a hotel room," Myka retorted, Tracy stopping dead in her tracks on the stairs. Her eyes darting between the two women. A sequel was made as she rushed down the stairs, hugging the Brit.

"Are you?!" Tracy's eyes wide as she looked between the two women.

"What? Wait! God no!" Myka said as she held Helena, who had leaned into her on the stairs.

_"Jesus, Joseph and Mary!_" Myka staged whispered, "We are not even married, Trac!" Myka huffed out, her head then rushing to find solace in soft, black strands. "See now why I would rather have cut off my left arm, then have to do this?" Myka nuzzling her nose, inhaling the unique scent that was Helena In her arms.

"Well well now, and who do I spy?" Warren's voice booming at the landing of the stairs.

Helena's gulp of air was only matched by Myka's, both women gripping each other's as they ascended the rungs. "My girl!" Warrens voice booming as his arms were wide open, then filled with his first born.

Jeannie came from behind, her hands busy with wiping from the terry cloth towel as her smile grew, "Myka, my baby!" she whispered, her hug enveloping the taller woman. Eyes were met over the tall woman; a soft, almost welcoming phobia was had.

"Myka Ophelia," the slap was playful as the older woman spun around her first,"And why did you not tell me she would be heaven sent?" Jeannie grinned, wrapping Helena up in a bear hug which the likes the Bering clan had never seen.

Helena's eyes were pleading with Myka's as she hugged her American half. "Mrs. Bering, it is my honor to meet the the ones responsible for such an angel to bless me," Helena said as she greeted the mother of her love.

"Oh, Myka. This one is a keeper," Jeannie winked at her first born.

Helena grinned at Myka, an '_I told you so_' was mouthed as all four women transversed their way up the stairs. "I am in such awe for Myka," Helena was saying as they walked up.

"How so, Helena?" Jeannie asked, her arm tightening a bit around Helena's shoulder as her eyes danced to Myka.

"If I may? My family is in the textile industry, generations," Helena sighed. Then soft brown met understanding hazel. "I have to admit, when Myka told of her childhood growing up in a bookstore, I was but put off. I am afraid to admit that_ green dragon_ was beating at my door," Helena sighed.

"Oh, please?" Tracy sighed as she rolled her eyes.

"Young lady!" Jeannie hissed.

Myka stepped back, her arm instinctively wrapping around Helena, pulling her into protective mode, shielding her with her body. Jeannie repressed the knowing smile as she watched her oldest go in to protection mode, it kicking in. Jeannie repressed a knowing smile, inwardly thankful that she, her values and teachings had osmosised to her oldest.

"And what is all this muss and fuss?" the booming voice filling the living room as the women entered.

Myka swallowed hard, her eyes side looking at her mother, her throat dry, but, her not willing to stand down. "Father, Mr Warren Bering," she cleared her throat, eyes trained on the man before her.

"Allow me to introduce a one, Helena George Wells,"

Helena gave her best smile, her hand extended to the patriarch of the family she so wished to be a part of. She swallowed hard, her left forefinger brushing the bulge in her pocket as she tried to rein in all the emotions at meeting the man.

They both stood silent, their hands clenched in a polite shake, theirs never waving as the other tested. Helena had heard war stories from her brother, Charles, at meeting '_the family'_.

He was blessed with the woman of his dreams, their family acceptance of him. Both had let out a huge sigh, hours after meeting the family, Charles and Helena had sat on the sofa of the flat they had shared. Both clicking the glasses of half and half at Charles being accepted into the fold.

"One day, Georgie girl, you will find your _'one_' and it will be glorious," Charles had said that night to his only sibling.

Helena laughed, brushing away her brother's romantic ideals of love, "As long as the Wells name is enshrined. All is right with the world," Helena raising her pint to him.

"Stop being such a gint!" Charles said, grabbing at his sisters belt as she tried to escape the sofa. "What of this sighting, at the museum?" he barked.

"None of your business," Helena remarked over her shoulder as she wrestled away from her brother. Heading to kitchen of the flat he was moving out of, she sighed as she poured the stout into their glasses.

"And what of this curly haired beauty that captured your eye?" Charles mocking caused Helena to frown.

"Never you mind my social life, Charlie. You have a wedding and a life of the ball and chain to plan," Helena then trying on the smirk of disdain.

"You, my dearest sister, are a wimp and a toad," Charles said, no smile, no cute tease was had as he wrapped his arm around his younger sibling. "Of all the family, of all the protests," his hand raised at the turn of her eyes. "Whether you want to admit it or not," Charles swallowed.

"There is that something special about you, a romantic that beats under that hidden vail and one day soon," blocking the raised hand that tried to smother his speech. "We both know that you, are blessed to find your _'one'_ and only," Charles smiled as he kissed the fist that never meant to really do him harm.

"Just do the family of Wells proud," he responded.

"How so?" Helena whispered, letting the small defeat at not smacking her brother, trail away.

"Georgie, really?" his one eyebrow raising as he stared at his sister.

"First impressions. We Wells have prided ourselves on that. That certain charm. And you, my little, clueless sister, need to remember that, when you're _'one'_ is at hand with her family,"

"And what makes you so sure that my _'one_' will be a she?"

"Oh, please?" Charles rolling his eyes. "As if any man could stand up to you," he laughed. "You need your own to hold fast to that light in you. Only a strong woman could match with your soul," Charles chuckling as he stood up.

Helena quickly suppressed her thoughts as she walked forward, the sight of Myka in her peripherally as she extended her hand to Myka's father. The grip was firm, neither wanting to be the first to relinquish their grip, their control. Thoughts of her bother mixed with the short breath she heard escape from Myka.

"Mr Bering, it is my honor to meet you," Helena smiled, releasing her grip at the faint relaxation from the man.

"So, Helena is it? As in HG Wells? Your parents with the name sake to the author?" Warren was teasing, not looking at the women around him as he poured out aged Scotch into two rock glasses.

Helena smirked at the quip, watching as Jeannie pursed her lips, gently grabbing Myka's elbow to halt her. "My name sake was a nod to the_ 'crazy_' uncle of the family," Helena then nodding her thanks as she accepted the glass from the man.

They both clinked their glasses together, Helena taking a healthy swig of the amber liquid, following Warren's lead._ 'God how she hated Scotch'_ trying her best to repress the urge to purge the foul liquid. Her eyes meeting Myka's, knowing, seeing the almost plead in her eyes as her father guided them toward the private, glass case in the middle of the room.

"Come on, Pumpkin," Jeannie whispered next to Myka's ear. Only a few times had her mom resorted to that when it was clear that Warren needed some privacy. The endearment of the word was Jeannie's way of trying to soften the blow to her daughter's ego.

"Helena?" Myka asked, knowing full well the room had heard.

A soft nod was had, eyes shone their love and trust for one another, "All is well," Helena replied to Myka and the other women by her side. Then turning to the treasured book case. A faint smile was had to the man as he unlocked the case.

…

"Mom, how can you be so calm?" Tracy huffed, watching as her mother just sat at the table. Her hand rubbing the back of her older sister who was hyperventilating into the brown bag.

"It is such a beautiful ring," Jeannie admonishing as she reached over the table. Her eyes meeting her oldest, her thumb rubbing over the tendons. "Are you sure?" she asked. She watched, then waving her hand at her youngest, "Tracy, do stop it. Give Myka some room," she said sternly.

Both women waiting for the younger Bering to leave the room, "You know, if it was Kevin to have asked, there would be so less drama," Tracy huffed as she marched to her room.

"Not on your life, you are still too young to drink," Jeannie yelling to her youngest retreating form.

"That will so burn her butt," Myka said. Both women then staring at each other, a moment of silence filled the room, and then fits of giggling erupted in the kitchen. Both women wiping at the laugh tears striking their cheeks. The low rumbles from the other room caused them to stop short.

"Myka, are you sure?" Jeannie reaching, again to hold her eldest hand.

"More than anything," Myka whispered, her eyes holding steadfast.

"Did you know that Helena would ask …" Jeannie was asking.

"Not a clue, I swear Mom,"

"Myka, get in here!" the loud boom of her father's voice quaked through the house.

"Mom?" Myka asked as she rose on jello legs.

"If she is truly your heart …" Jeannie was starting to say, watching as her daughter rushed to the living room. 'Then you will defend her' she said, chuckling to herself as she got up.

"Then it is settled, the ceremony is on me, the other is on you," Myka heard her father saying as she entered the room. "Are you sure about the court thing?" he asked to Helena as he finished the last of his glass.

"What court thing?" Myka asked, crossing her arms as she stopped by the bar in the living room. Her eyes dancing between her father's and the woman she loved. All was silent, nodding her head, she poured herself a drink. Myka held a glass behind her, her mother just coming into the room.

"Thank you, Pumpkin," she whispered to her daughter, her eyes hovering over the rim as she looked at all in the living room. "Seems, these two have made up their minds as to what type of wedding we are to have without any input from us," Myka snarked as she polished her glass in one, long gulp.

"Really Warren?" Jeannie glared at her husband, then shifting her eyes to Helena. "I do believe that your girl has yet to be asked," she glared to Helena.

Warren moved a bit closer to Helena, leaning to whisper in her ear, "You did not ask her yet?" then looking down into his empty glass.

"Okay, please, if we all could take a step back?" Helena was saying, both hands raised. Myka glaring at the empty glass in Helena's left hand.

"You didn't ask Myka?" the shrill question coming from around the corner of the room.

"No, Tracy, Helena did not ask me," Myka said in a low tone.

"You are so in for it," Tracy smirked to Helena.

"Tracy, room, now!" Jeannie said, all turning their heads at the stern voice.

Jeannie was staring down Helena, her eyes never leaving the woman as Tracy ran to her room. "Not one step more," she said to her husband. "And you are okay with this?"

"But mother," he pleaded.

"Don't _'mother_' me, Warren. A girl, your girl, should get a proper proposal, on bended knee," she then glared at Helena.

Helena was doing the finest impersonation of a blowfish gasping for air Myka had ever seen. Her heart starting to clinch at her mom's beratement. "But moth…Jeanne, it has been only under a year for these two. She, Helena, comes waltzing in, ring in pocket, asking for Myka's hand. What do you want me to say?" his eyes pleading to his wife's.

Jeannie stood stoic, her arms crossed. Her eyes darting about the three of them. She watched as Myka mouthed to Helena '_ you want to marry me?_' Then watching as tears formed behind brown, the small smile forming. She willed all her strength not to cry out at the loving peace that enveloped her daughter's face.

"Warren?" she whispered, her hand outstretched to her husband.

"What?" he looked at his wife, then seeing his daughter, the soft tears rolling down her face. He nodded, his hand giving a gentle squeeze to Helena's shoulder as he passed by her. "_Pray she says yes_'" he whispered near her as he walked by.

…

Warren and Helena both paced the room, Jeannie sighing as she sat down. "For the love of all that is wholly, will you two stop pacing!"

"But mother! it's not like a regular surgery," he pleaded, then wincing as he felt the tight grip on his shoulder from Helena.

Her free hand gripping at him, her eyes pleading with him. The soft coo then stopping all of them, Helena reaching for the bottle in the bag next to Jeannie. "Do you mind?" Helena whispered.

"Not at all," Jeannie smiled. Walking to the nurse's station. "Is there a microwave I may use?" she asked. The nurse guiding her to the private one they used. Both women watching, then making sure the bottle was not too hot.

"When mine was born, we had breast milk parties like you would not believe! Every one of us used this thing till we got it right," the nurse smiled, giving the warmed bottle to Jeannie after she had tested the drops of expressed milk on her wrist.

"First grandchild?" the nurse asked.

"For right now. My daughter is in the OR, giving birth for her first time," Jeannie smiled, then reaching over to grab Helena's collar. "This one, gave birth to this little one," Jeannie beamed as Helena looked on in confusing. Her eyes pleading to Warren as she tried to hold it together.

"Mother, please," Warren said as he held his first grandchild, holding the bottle of warm milk as Helena looked on.

"When can we see her?" Helena pleaded to the nurse, her hands fidging at the hem of her blouse as she watched Warren feed their first born.

"Because it requires surgery, I am afraid you must wait here," the nurse smiled, her heart dropping a bit at the look on Helena's face.

"Mrs Bering-Wells?" the young doctor was asking as he came rushing out of the operating theatre.

"Yes?" Helena jumping at the young doctor. Gulping down a bit of fear, he held his arm up, pointing to the double doors, "Your wife has been asking for you the whole time, seems she won't let us, … she wants you present for everything," he was stumbling for words.

"So," Warren hummed as he looked over Helena's shoulder. Both their hands gently rubbing over the small forehead. "Looks like someone finally put the stem on the apple," he smiled.

"Your grandchild," Helena hummed. Her hand stroking a few wet curls from Myka's forehead.

"Baby?" Myka mumbled as her eyes slowly opened.

"Right here, my love." Helena softly said.

"Is he?" her voice trailing off.

"He, Warren, is perfect, my darling," Helena smiled, leaning over to kiss Myka's forehead.

"He? Warren?" Myka's father asked.

Her eyes never leaving her loves, she answered,

"Yes, your grandson, our son, Warren,"

The End.


End file.
